Silhouettes
by Genesis Grey
Summary: A Suguru fic about how he sees the world around him. I was inspired by the way he seems to take everything in stride and just seems so ambivalent/blasé/melancholy toward the world.


::Silhouettes::  
  
  
  
Suguru watched the silhouettes move. Shadows of people he would see if he just looked up from the sidewalk, but then he would be forced to see all their imperfections. Sometimes life was better seen in dark outlines rather than details. Besides, he wondered, where would people be without their shadows? When an artist forgets a shadow in his painting the figure looks off and lacks depth, no one is sure what is wrong because few actively look at the shadows, but they know something is missing.   
  
That's why he liked the stage and the keyboard so much. He was the shadow of the singer, giving him depth and appearance, but never truly noticed. Without him there would be something missing. Like there had been something missing in Bad Luck's music. Tohma had heard it and so had Hiro and, though he denied it, so had Shuichi. He was the shadow to give them those vital dimensions, even if no one knew it.   
  
Unlike his cousin, Tohma, he'd never liked attention much. He could handle it when it was lavished upon him, but he preferred to watch and observe. He liked to lose himself in his work until the sounds and the numbing feel of his fingers on the keys became his entire reality. But like some kind of addict it never seemed to last long enough. Every time he found that perfect moment, the feeling of euphoria always seemed to be the exact point he came down off the high and back into the real world as people call it.  
  
He looked at his watch. It was almost time to meet up in the studio for practice. Hiro would be on time and Shuichi would bound in late if he was energetic or not at all if he was having troubles in his love life. Sakano would be spazzing about some little thing and K would be polishing his sniper rifle. He stood up off the bench he'd been sitting on, his eyes scanning the myriad of people walking around the park.  
  
No one was ever as interesting as their silhouette made them, he decided, as he put his hands in his pockets and began walking toward the NG building. In the vague black forms that appeared on the ground or far away there was so much promise, so much mystery, but when he could actually see a person close up all that went away and only disappointment remained.  
  
Except with Bad Luck. He hadn't been disappointed by his comrades, annoyed to the point he wished to strangle them, yes, but disappointed, not yet. Shuichi's motives were simple and easy to see, but his actions… well, those always threw Suguru for a loop. Made him embarrassed or angry or annoyed, sometimes even made him laugh. Hiro was quieter, the type that had always intrigued Suguru and utterly disappointed him with the lack of substance behind their exterior. Not Hiro though. The guitarist had as much spunk and energy as Shuichi, maybe more, he simply had more sense.  
  
But the real reason Suguru gave them a chance was because they knew music. Sometimes Shuichi was impossible to deal with and it was more like babysitting a child than playing in a band, but his lyrics were good… somewhat unrefined, but good and slowly getting better. And sometimes Hiro didn't hit a note right and Suguru gritted his teeth and let it pass because Hiro has something that many of the better guitarists in NG didn't have. He still loved music and was willing to get better.  
  
Suguru pushed open the door of the NG building and heard the snickers and whispers. Disembodied voiced saying he owed his career to nepotism. He kept his head up but his eyes glued to the ground and he walked across the lobby to the elevator. He heard a mocking call of 'old man' that came from swirly dark shadows that seemed to flow with an unnatural aura. His eyes rose a touch to see who the silhouettes belonged to. ASK. How utterly disappointing. He walked into the elevator and the doors shut and he let out a sigh.  
  
He'd always been teased about having the personality of an old man. Too serious and obsessed with his work. He didn't understand why loving his work and wanting to do it well rather than play around supposedly made him old.   
  
The elevator opened and he walked out, quickly dodging as Ryuichi dashed past him down the hall, Kumagoro raised high above his head and laughing maniacally. He managed to count to three before Noriko sprinted past him after her singer. He watched after the retreating forms for a moment and almost smiled before he continued on toward the studio.   
  
Ryuichi and Noriko were interesting, but they were his competition and he could not fraternize with them too much. Or at least that was his excuse. That and age. He was sure they would not wish to hang around someone his age, even if he did act more mature than the lot of them put together. Shuichi hadn't even wanted to put up with him and he was only three years younger than the pink haired singer of Bad Luck.   
  
He sighed. It seemed he would forever be Tohma's young cousin. Always stuck in the silhouette of the great Tohma. Tohma the President of NG. Tohma the keyboardist of Nittle Grasper. Tohma the producer of both ASK and Nittle Grasper. Tohma the great. Tohma the perfect. Tohma the all powerful, all wonderful member of the family.   
  
And he was just little Suguru who liked to imitate his famous cousin by playing around on the keyboard. It was cute. They had the same smile after all.   
  
He gritted his teeth. It wasn't true. He wasn't imitating Tohma. He loved music more than life itself and anyone who cared to look knew that, but they were all blinded by the greatness of the perfect Tohma.   
  
Tohma wasn't perfect. Suguru knew that. They had the same smile after all. The same disarming, charming smile that fooled everyone into believing the best, that everything would be alright. The same dishonest smile. But Tohma used it to excess, even on those he cared for. Suguru knew better. If he smiled that smile too often it would become his mask, just as it had become Tohma's.   
  
He frowned as he stopped in front of the studio door and looked down. His shadow formed on the ground under the iridescent blue tinged hallway lights. It was broken into three from the multiple angles of light, each a different shade of gray, merging together into a black center. He wondered if he was as interesting as his silhouette seemed. If he was as many shades of gray with a dark inside.   
  
He opened to the door of the studio. Shuichi was slumped over a chair and Hiro was fanning him with sheet music while Sakano spun around in hyperactive circles and K took aim. Suguru let out another sigh as he walked in.   
  
No.  
  
No one was quite as interesting as their silhouette.   
---  
Author's Notes: I always feel sorry for Suguru. He's such a background character, but he's so neat. Anyway, feedback is wonderful. 


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